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Have you ever had one of those experiences where you seriously thought you were going to die? What was it? Were you driving too fast and the weather was bad? Did someone break into your house? Has anyone tried to hurt you in a serious way? One of these has probably happened to you before. But what if it was something else? Could you control it? Did you do it to yourself? Was it an accident?
One Sunday evening, I had just gotten done with dinner with my family and my boyfriend.
“Your turn to do the dishes,” said my mom.
“Ugh, really? Nick’s over!” I replied.
I gave in and apologized to Nick. I hate doing the dishes.
“All you have to do is rinse the dish and put it in the dishwasher. I have to wash them by hand,” Nick told me.
I finished them, against my will. I started feeling sick. Oh, those lovely cramps and my head. Advil Liquid-Gels are lifesavers. I take four, for I am not the smallest thing in the world. But I couldn’t find any. I grabbed the Tylenol bottle and took four, only to realize after, that it was extra strength and 500mg each. I just laughed it off.
“How many did you take?” asked my dad.
“Four, I usually do,” I replied.
“That was extra strength. You just overdosed!”
I ran upstairs, thought about it and just freaked out.
“You need to get them out of your system; you could die.”
“What do you want me to do, stick my fingers down my throat and force them up?”
“Actually, yes,” said my dad.
I couldn’t believe that he said that. I broke down and cried.
Nick just sat there and held me. Rubbing my back, he said,
“Hey, everything’s going to be okay. You can do this.”
What do you think bothered me the most? The fact that things inside me could be killing me? Nope, the fact that he had to see me like that.
“I’m so sorry you have to see me like this.”
“No, no, don’t be. I’d rather be here than anywhere else,” Nick said.
So with whatever strength I could get together, I left my room. I sat on the bathroom floor, lifted up the toilet seat and said a little prayer. I told Nick to step outside the room and my mom came in.
“Give me a toothbrush! I can’t do this with my fingers/”
What else could I do? I had to do it. So I stuck it back there until I felt like stuff was coming up. Nothing did. I did that a couple of times until stuff did. I was shaking so much and sweating.
“Do you see anything?” my dad asked.
The answer of course, was no. he called poison control. I curled up into my mom’s arms and begged her to stop him. She told me to keep trying. Stuff kept coming up, but we couldn’t see anything.
He got off the phone and said, “Well you’re good. Your weight saved you.”
Of course, after he made me go through all that. The only thing I could think of saying was,
“Thank God for boobs. Guys, you never ever have to worry about me becoming bulimic.”
I got up, my legs shaking, flushed the toilet and went to the sink. I looked at myself, my cheeks flushed and my hair sticking to my forehead. Nick came over to hug me.
I said, “Lemme brush my teeth first.”
“Well at least now you get the honor of picking out a new toothbrush,” my mom said.
So I brushed my teeth with my new toothbrush and just hugged Nick.
He goes, “See? I told you everything would be okay.”
I thanked him for staying. I wouldn’t have gotten through that if he wasn’t right outside the door, giving me encouragement. We went through the rest of the night, watching football and laughing, everyone relieved.
The next day, I told one of my friends what had happened. By the end of the day, I had been asked,
“You overdosed last night?!”